


An art like any other

by Pellaaearien



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fill, Temporary Character Death, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pellaaearien/pseuds/Pellaaearien
Summary: Dying -It is an art; like everything elseI do it exceptionally well.(Lady Lazarus, Sylvia Plath)Lucifer and Chloe split up while chasing the Sinnerman. Suddenly, Lucifer is invulnerable again. Only, Chloe never left the warehouse. (My version of the Sinnerman; not S3 compliant.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a double prompt fill. First for the lovely Mischief-With-Sandra, who asked, "What if Chloe died and Lucifer only knew because he became invulnerable again?" 
> 
> The second prompt suggested the evocative image of Lucifer pinned to a wall by his wings. I decided to combine them into the ultimate angst with a happy ending story.
> 
> Huge amounts of whump ahead. I do promise to make it better by the end.

Chloe’s sharp eyes scanned the interior of the warehouse.

“See anything?” she hissed to Lucifer. He shook his head.

"Shit,” Chloe swore. They’d spent weeks tracking down the Sinnerman’s crime syndicate. Letting them slip away was not an option.

“Okay, let’s split up,” she said. They were on the criminals’ turf now. “Cover more ground.”

Lucifer nodded. “Be careful, Detective,” he said, touching her arm briefly. Then he was gone.

Chloe adjusted her grip on her weapon, moving deeper into the dark.

*

Lucifer advanced on the human, wishing he still had his Devil face to scare them into submission, but he found stalking to be just as enjoyable, if less effective.

He heard a shot from behind; with the echo in the building it came just a second too late to dodge.

Pain blossomed into being on his left shoulder and he whirled, at the throat of the man responsible in two strides. It was always refreshing when the Detective wasn’t around to see and he could unleash his full abilities.

Immediate threat eliminated, he turned back to the first man but he’d taken the opportunity to flee. Lucifer gave chase, knowing it was only a matter of time before his wound began to affect his faculties.

He cornered the man. A cornered human with a gun was a threat to him now. He’d already been shot once, but the initial pain had faded, rather than growing as he expected. What had Chloe called it? Adrenaline? Yes, that must be it.

As he approached, the sound of the backup team breaking in could be heard. The man spun, saw Lucifer, and emptied the rest of his clip into his chest as Lucifer sped to close the distance between them.

He knocked him out - the Detective needed suspects to question, after all - before looking down at himself. There was no way the human stain could have missed, at point-blank range, and it appeared another trip to Hell would be imminent.

Before he could begin to process the implications of that, he noticed the distinct lack of blood adorning his front. The holes in his Burberry were neat and clean - the bullets hadn’t touched him.

He frowned in confusion. The warehouse wasn’t large enough for the Detective to be out of range… perhaps the chase had taken her outside?

The backup squad was fanning out and he heard a radio squawk.

“ _This is backup unit 613, we’ve got an officer down, repeat, officer down…”_

For a long moment, the words didn’t register. Chloe was fine, outside the warehouse. One of the other officers might not have been as lucky…

But he looked down at himself again, and in a terrible flash of clarity, he just _knew._

“Chloe.” Her name was pulled from him in a breathless sob.

The radio continued with its meaningless sounds, calling for EMTs, for an ambulance, but Lucifer knew. He _knew._

It was already too late.

“ _CHLOE!”_ There was a roaring in his ears as he raced through the piles of crates to the biggest convergence of people. He tossed them aside heedlessly, already knowing what he was going to find in the center even as he clung to the hope that he was mistaken.

He saw a flash of blonde hair and felt reality begin to shatter around him.

“No, no, no,” he moaned, in an endless loop as he crumpled next to Chloe’s still form. He gathered it to him, her limbs limp and awkward, proving her soul had already crossed the threshold. The humans could dither about medical attention all they liked; he knew the truth.

He was invulnerable again. Chloe was gone. She’d died alone in the dark, and he hadn’t been there for her.

The world began to warp around him as his control over his powers deteriorated. If he’d still had his face, it would have been out in full force, a visible expression of his rage and grief. Since he was robbed of that, his wings unfurled instead, blowing the gaggle of humans away with the force of it and he knew he had to get out of there.

Leaving Chloe (no, not-Chloe, her body, an empty shell, everything _but_ Chloe Decker) behind, unable to remain near it a moment longer, he took to the skies, on top of a nearby building in an instant.

He did not turn his face to the uncaring sky or make a spectacle of himself by shouting at Someone who stopped listening long ago, but his words were no less fervent for all that.

“So that’s it then?” His fists clenched impotently at his sides, wings rearing up over his shoulders. “This is Your grand plan?” The pointlessness of it all choked him. Everything they’d shared, everything they’d been through, and she’d still died without knowing the truth about him… without knowing how much she’d meant to him.

Now she never would, gone the one place he could never follow.

She was already going to leave him far too soon, but this, this senseless death…

The sobs he refused to give voice to caught in his throat. He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved such a death less than Chloe Decker.

“You bastard,” he directed toward the Almighty, following it up with the same sentiment in every language ever spoken, and then was quiet. There was nothing more to be said.

Eternity stretched before him, cruel and implacable. Briefly, he considered remaining on this plane. Not in LA. Perth, maybe, or Amsterdam. South America somewhere. But he just as quickly discarded the notion. The pleasures of the flesh could no longer soothe him, only a constant reminder of how much more he once had. Damn his Father.

His wings trembled under the force of his grief. Bloody useless things. If he’d been even a little closer, he could have used one of his feathers to heal her, even from the brink of death. It was the only usage of them he would have accepted. But he’d been denied even that.

He gasped great gulps of air, bitterly resenting the fact that he was able to while Chloe wasn’t. He firmed his resolve. He would return to Lux one final time, inform Mazikeen that they would be returning Below - assuming she still wished to return.

But first: he would ensure they had company when they went.

He took flight, noticing only then that his face was wet with tears.

*

The Sinnerman was a small, unassuming man. Plain in every way, almost mousey, Lucifer would have passed him on the street without a second thought - or indeed a first.

“So, we meet at last,” he said. His voice was whisper-thin, almost a monotone.

Lucifer said nothing, his heart rattling in the hollow cavern of his chest. Standing before him was the architect of his destruction, and he felt nothing other than a profound weariness. He advanced on the Sinnerman, secure in his renewed invulnerability.

The Sinnerman held up a hand. “You don’t want to kill me, Mastema.”

Lucifer laughed; a dry, humourless sound that hurt in interesting ways. He hadn’t heard that particular name in a long time.

“Oh, I really do,” he ground out, his voice harsh and strange in his ears. “You and your boys are going to be keeping me company until the end of time.” An endless, empty existence, given any semblance of meaning only by inflicting his revenge on those responsible over and over and over. Allowing himself to become the monster everyone else believed he was because why not? Why bother?

“No,” the Sinnerman said simply, and Lucifer froze in place, completely and inexplicably unable to move. He could only watch as the man approached, closing the distance between them as slowly as Lucifer had done. “That’s not what you really want, is it, Mastema?”

Lucifer’s tongue darted out to wet suddenly dry lips.

“No,” he answered, the truth pulled from him unwillingly, as he drew out the desires of others.

“No,” the Sinnerman repeated confidently, bending closer. “You want to be punished, don't you?”

“Yes,” Lucifer admitted, eyes wide. The Sinnerman smiled.

“Of course you do. For letting your Detective die. For all you've done for her sake. You killed your own brother to save her life and she ended up dying anyway. With you in the same building. You didn't even notice.”

"How are you doing this?” Lucifer gasped, cords straining in his neck as he fought to break free. The Sinnerman tilted his head, regarding him quizzically.

“Does it matter?” he asked. Lucifer supposed it didn't.

Then the pain began, and he gave himself over to it with what felt like relief.

* * *

 Pain.

He is surrounded by it. Saturated by it. Adrift in it.

He floats in a boundless dark sea of burning agony, ripples rebounding on ripples building to a cascade of pain, never finding an end.

He’s still alive, because he is burning, the Fall and the lake of fire and cutting his wings off all merging and blurring together.

He wonders why he’s still alive.

He's certain he’s in Hell.

Occasionally he remembers. _Chloe_. Her name sends searing jolts of torture through him, and he is grateful for the pain. It becomes his refuge.

He fades in and out of consciousness, words skittering against the confines of his skull.

“ _You’re finally… the jewel of my collection… the crowning… captured in the zenith of your despair…_ ”

The words should evoke something in him other than apathy. But they are so very far away.

He drifts, buoyed by the pain, his constant companion. Time no longer has any meaning - there is only the eternal present. This is his reality now, and he knows it to be right.

Suddenly, her face looms up before him and he gasps, the sight twisting a white hot knife in his chest. There is no refuge from this pain.

"No. No, please,” he begs. “Take it away.” He can’t tell if his lips form words, but the face’s expression creases in concern. She’d always worried about him. Prayed for the Devil.

"I’m sorry.” He won’t squander this chance to say it, even like this. “I’m so sorry.”

The face is removed, and he sinks gratefully into the pain, letting it consume him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have to get worse before they get better.

“Lucifer!”

Chloe jerked awake with a gasp, her partner’s name on her lips. For an instant, she was aware only of the all-consuming imperative. _Find Lucifer._

There was a storm of noise around her, but all of it was meaningless. Lucifer needed her.

She started to get up, only to find herself prevented from rising. She struggled blindly before a single voice penetrated the rushing like wings in her ears.

“Chloe! Chlo, take it easy. Just relax, okay?”

She paused for a single second, trying to place the familiar voice. _Dan_ , she decided. It was a bittersweet name, but mostly warm. Safe.

She subsided, and the weight across her chest was removed. Chloe realized her ex-husband must have thrown himself bodily across her to restrain her.

“Welcome back, Chloe. Welcome back.” His voice sounded oddly muffled. Chloe blinked, her surroundings gradually coming into focus.

She was in an ambulance, strapped to a gurney, and Dan was sitting next to her, looking at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. It was the look he’d worn on their wedding night, but less frequently as the years went on. Also in the back was a gaggle of paramedics, standing around with their mouths open, somehow looking even more dumbstruck than Dan.

She frowned. None of this made sense. Her mind filled with light and music and that burning compulsion, it took far longer than it should have for her to engage her detective instincts. “What’s going on?”

Dan rubbed a hand over his face. He’d been _crying_ , Chloe realized, the odd sound of his voice finally connecting for her.

“You…” His mouth worked a few times as machines beeped steadily in the background. “What’s the last thing you remember?” he finally attempted, resting a gentle hand on her arm. Chloe looked down at it in confusion, unsure what it was supposed to be for.

“I…” She could hardly think past the directive pulsing in her head. _Find Lucifer. Find Lucifer._ She wasn’t sure why she was still here. “There was… a warehouse.” She remembered that much. There was one in her mind too, a very specific one she had to find immediately. “Lucifer. I have to find Lucifer!”

She tried to rise again, and again Dan held her in place. “Chloe, you _died_. You _died_ , Chloe! You got shot in the back of the head, you were dead before the backup team even found you.” He gulped, obviously gathering composure, and Chloe placed her hand over his, the compulsion quieting.

“They just called it. And then you just…” Dan ran his hands through his hair, obviously shaken. “It’s impossible, Chlo. Absolutely impossible!”

Chloe took a deep, shuddering breath. She didn’t know what to think about all this, but she was here now, and other things were more important.

“What about Lucifer?” she asked.

Dan sighed. “No one knows. Half of the backup crew said he wasn’t there, the other half said they saw him but he disappeared. No one knows where he is.”

“I do,” Chloe said simply, swinging her legs over the side of the gurney. This time, Dan made no move to stop her, though some of the paramedics made involuntarily sounds. It wasn't as though they had any actual room to protest. Chloe felt fine. Better than fine. She felt invincible.”We have to find him, Dan, he's in trouble.”

Dan followed her out of the ambulance, probably because he didn't know what else to do. She'd take it, for now. Her phone vibrated as she walked to where she'd parked her cruiser, however long ago, with Lucifer beside her, plotting their strategy (though not without the occasional quip. No matter how serious the undertaking, Lucifer was Lucifer.)

She didn't know what was wrong or where he was other than a constant beacon beckoning her forward.

She checked her phone’s display: it was Maze.

“Where’s Lucifer?” her roommate barked, without preamble, when Chloe picked up. “I can’t-” she heard teeth snap together as Maze cut herself off. “I can’t contact him,” she finished, with effort.

“I know where he is, but I’m heading over right away,” Chloe answered as she got behind the wheel. Dan slid in beside her, unprompted. “If I knew where I was going, I’d tell you where to meet us, but I just know how to get there.” She switched to Bluetooth and drove, her destination pulling at her like magnetic north.

To her surprise, Maze took that in stride, though she also swore creatively.

“I can’t track you,” she said. Chloe didn’t waste time asking what that meant. She needed Maze.

“Dan’s with me.” It didn’t come out as the question she’d intended.

She could practically hear Maze’s answering smile. “I can track him. Be right behind you, Decker.” She hung up.

Chloe spared a single thought for why Dan should be “trackable” while she wasn’t, but she dismissed it as irrelevant. She continued to drive, following the directions in her head like a GPS, while Dan remained silent, occasionally shooting her wondering glances.

Her directive was taking up too much space in her head to really process the fact that she had apparently come back from the dead, but she knew it would have to be dealt with soon. She put a surreptitious hand to the back of her head, feeling nothing there but whole skin, no scar, or indeed mark of any kind. Dan tracked the movement, breathing out a fervent curse.

Chloe shook her head, putting both hands back on the wheel. Later.

_Find Lucifer._

* * *

They arrived at another nondescript warehouse. Maze appeared almost as soon as she’d parked, accompanied by Amenadiel. She sniffed, shuddering, as Chloe got out of the car.

“You stink, Decker,” she said in disgust. Chloe frowned.

“Well I was just in a shootout, so sorry I didn’t take the time to shower.”

Maze shook her head. “Not what I meant,” she said, though she did not elaborate. Chloe turned to Dan.

“Now, I want you to wait out here and call for backup,” she said. “The Sinnerman might still be in there.”

Dan nodded at the directive, then blinked. “Wait. You’re going in?”

Chloe spread her hands. “I have to find Lucifer.” The directive was even more insistent now, prodding at her skull. Dan grabbed her arms.

“What the _hell_ , Chloe?” he exclaimed. “You just _died_ , and now you’re going into _another_ warehouse without backup?”

Both Maze and Amenadiel’s head snapped up at that, her roommate’s mouth forming an ‘o’ of comprehension.

“What do you mean, _died_?” Amenadiel demanded.

Maze rounded on him. “Can’t you smell it?” she asked. “She stinks of Heaven.”

Amenadiel’s eyes blew wide. “And if Lucifer was with her…” He drew himself up, looking like a soldier receiving marching orders. “We need to find him. Now.”

None of this made any sense to Chloe except the last.

“Glad to have you on board,” she snapped, patience wearing thin. “Now, can we _please_ go?” She shook Dan off when he tried to protest again. “ _No_ , Dan. I have to do this. I’ll have Amenadiel and Maze and we’re not splitting up. Call backup.”

She walked away, ignoring Dan shouting her name as Amenadiel and Maze fell into step beside her.

Maze kicked open the door, and Chloe went in, gun drawn, Amenadiel her silent shadow. Chloe’s ears strained, but she couldn’t hear anything. She didn’t know whether or not that was a good sign.

“This way,” she whispered, leading them unerringly through twisting, dank corridors until they entered a cavernous room.

There was a spotlight shining on something at the far end, and the sudden brightness blinded Chloe. Beside her, however, Maze and Amenadiel made identical sounds of horror.

She was terrified to learn what could have elicited such a reaction from both of them, but also couldn’t stand not knowing. Blinking rapidly, she raised a hand to shade her eyes.

A moment later, she clapped both hands to her mouth, though not soon enough to keep a shocked gasp from escaping.

She was a homicide cop, and used to grisly crime scenes, but this...

The bastard had hung him up on the wall.

His body was suspended from two pegs driven into the wall beneath his shoulders, his arms hanging loosely by his sides, his head lolling towards his bare chest.

All Chloe could see, however, were the two massive wings spread out behind him, as though he'd been captured mid flight. They were pinned to the wall, like a butterfly on display, the gleaming white feathers marred by rivulets of blood cascading down from nails placed at each joint. The blood gathered in a pool beneath his feet, which were also nailed through, one atop the other, and the air was filled with its coppery scent.

They'd found Lucifer. But Chloe almost wished they hadn't.

“Lucifer.” The word was barely a puff of air. “Oh god.”

Maze let out a strangled roar, rushing forward. “Get him down. Get him _down_!”

It shook Chloe out of her stupor, and she forced herself to move closer. Before she could make her mouth work to ask how they were going to get up to him, Maze leaped twelve feet in the air, grabbing one of the pegs to anchor herself as she immediately began yanking on the nearest rod securing Lucifer to the wall.

Lucifer stirred at that, thrashing weakly, his mouth opening in a silent scream before emerging as an animal whine that Chloe could have gone her entire life without hearing, thank you very much.

“Mazikeen!” Amenadiel shouted, currently stacking crates like they were pillows. “Take it easy, you’ll kill him!” He extended a hand to her.

“Get up there, Chloe,” he said. “Try to keep him calm, so he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Chloe took the hand with only a moment’s hesitation and found herself boosted up almost to Lucifer’s eye level.

He was canted forward at an angle ( _the whole damn thing was so orchestrated_ ) so she was suddenly very close to him. This close, there was no denying the reality of the feathered appendages sprouting from his back (fake wings wouldn’t have bled, anyway) but she shoved the impending breakdown aside. Lucifer was in pain.

The first rod came free, clattering to the floor with a sound that couldn’t cover up Lucifer’s inhuman moan of agony. It was automatic, then, to try to comfort him.

His face was unmarred, and she placed a careful hand along his jaw, carding the other gently through his hair.

“Lucifer. Lucifer, honey, can you hear me?” The endearment fell unthinking from her lips. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”

Lucifer’s eyes slitted open. It took a long moment for him to focus on her face. Chloe tried for a reassuring smile but Lucifer inhaled sharply, twisting away as though trying to avoid her.

“No. No, please,” he managed brokenly, his voice weak and thready, and Chloe felt her heart shatter. “Take it away.”

She forced down the instinctual hurt - he surely wasn’t in his right mind currently - and tried to keep him steady as Amenadiel spoke behind her.

“No sign of company but we gotta get this done fast.” She was grateful for him watching their backs - all of her training had gone completely out of her head - and he clambered up on some more crates to start on the other side.

Lucifer made a shuddering groan as Amenadiel worked, starting to slump. The tang of blood in the air intensified and Chloe fought back bile.

“Come on, Lucifer,” she entreated, stroking more urgently as though she could erase what had been done to him with her touch alone. “Come on, stay with me. Stay with me, honey.”

“You… didn’t,” he rasped out, barely intelligible, and Chloe felt tears prickle in her eyes.

“I did, I did stay, look, here I am,” she said desperately, but Lucifer just tossed his head in wordless denial.

Chloe continued her ministrations, knowing she wasn’t going to get through to him in this state. Lucifer cried out hoarsely as another rod clattered to the floor and slid forward even more. She did her best to support his dead weight, touching him everywhere she could reach.

“It’s almost over,” she soothed, holding him as he shuddered against her. “I promise. It’ll be okay,” she repeated, over and over, trying to convince herself as much as him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I’m so sorry.”

Her tears falling in earnest now, Chloe repeated her meaningless platitudes, voice thick as she wondered what he thought he had to apologize for.

Finally, with an animalistic keen from Lucifer, he was released, and Chloe bore his full weight for only a second before Maze was there, catching him and lowering him down gently, more carefully than she’d ever seen her roommate do anything.

Before she knew it, Chloe was peppering Lucifer’s brow with kisses, chanting his name as her tears fell on his face.

“Get her out of here, Maze,” Amenadiel ordered, looking down at his nearly comatose brother.

“I’m not leaving him!” Chloe growled, spreading her arms across his body protectively.

“He’s going to bleed out with you still here!” Amenadiel exclaimed. “Maze, get her out!”

As Maze obeyed, Amenadel turned to Lucifer, who was breathing shallowly, wings twitching. He did his best to staunch the puncture wounds, but with the knowledge that it was mostly futile. Lucifer had already lost so much blood.

“Come on, little brother,” he said roughly. “Don't die on me.”

Now, more than ever, he felt like a failure. He should have been able to heal his brother, sweep out his feathers and take away his pain. Instead, he had to watch him suffer, struggle to draw breath.

“You’re stronger than this, Luci.” The words were desperate rather than reassuring. “This can’t be how it ends for you.” He placed a careful hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, feeling muscles tremble as he clung to life.

“Chloe’s alive,” he told his brother. “She hasn’t gone anywhere, so you don’t have to either, Luci.”

That, at least, got a reaction - a bitter laugh that sounded like scraping glass, more blood saturating his makeshift bandages, and Amenadiel held both shoulders tighter.

“Shh, Luci,” he soothed. “Don’t move.”

Angels didn’t go into shock, but wing trauma was able to incapacitate them like nothing else - and he’d never heard of such a torture being applied to an angel before. Just the thought of anything piercing the hyper-sensitive appendages had Amenadiel aching in sympathy.

“Hold on,” he begged his brother, but Lucifer’s movements were becoming weaker. “Hold on.”

He had no idea how Lucifer was going to get back from Hell. They had no one to send after him, and he had a sneaking suspicion Lucifer wouldn’t want to come back on his own, this time.

Amenadiel wasn’t sure when he started praying. It was a prayer without words, a memory of grace, of Lucifer and their brotherly bond. Not the way he was before the Fall: the generous, childlike, caring (yes, caring) person he’d made himself into. Occasionally insightful, often infuriating, but also willing to have his back when it counted, and vice versa. The way he’d unhesitatingly offered assistance in imitating him, despite how it had all played out. How different he was around his detective, how she was changing him, how he was allowing himself to be changed, just by being near her.

He wanted to see that continue, wanted his brother to be healed in every way, with an ache that shook him to his very soul.

The instant he thought that, the instant he wished wholeheartedly for Lucifer’s happiness, not out of any selfish motive, was the moment it happened.

His wings erupted from his back, as whole and hale as if they’d never been away, and Amenadiel began to laugh.

 _Thank you, Dad,_ he sent toward the Heavens, feeling love and grace and blessedness envelop him once more like a cloak. But he didn’t waste time rejoicing in his absolution, in the pleasure of reconnecting with his brothers and sisters, with the legacy of his Father.

Without hesitation, he carded his fingers into his new-grown feathers, plucking out a handful and getting to work.

“Nice try, brother,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “But this is not a day you die.”

*

“What the _hell_ , Maze?”

Chloe was doubled over to catch her breath, hands on knees, winded even though she’d done nothing more strenuous than be carried, slung over Maze’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She knew it should shock her more, but there was only so much room in her head and it was currently all taken up by Lucifer.

“Take me _back_ ,” she demanded, already stomping off in a random direction, only to be stopped by Maze’s iron grip.

“You make him _vulnerable_ , Decker,” Maze hissed, eyes blazing. “Get it? He’s in more pain because of you.”

Chloe shook her off (Maze allowed her to shake her off) as the words sank in.

Maze herself was unaffected. “I would have taken you further away, only…” She kicked the figure at their feet that Chloe hadn’t noticed until that moment. “This scum has Lucifer’s blood on his hands.”

Chloe drew her gun automatically, but before she could decide what she wanted to do with it, Maze’s knives were out and she was drawing one across the man’s throat. Chloe shouted, either in protest or warning, she wasn’t sure, jumping back to avoid the spray of blood.

Only… there wasn’t one. The man didn’t even turn around, simply continued to stare up at Chloe with a serene smile on his face.

“ _What_?” Maze’s voice was untuned with shock. “But a blade forged in Hell should…” She grabbed the man by his hair, wrenching his head up. Even then, the man wouldn’t look at her. “What are you?” she demanded.

“I’m the Sinnerman,” he replied, and Chloe tightened her hold on her gun. The man in front of her was responsible for all the gruesome murders they’d been investigating over the past few months, for the horrific torture of her partner. White hot rage was coursing through her veins, and she drew deep breaths through her nose to focus.

“ _What_ are you?” Maze repeated, tossing the Sinnerman like a ragdoll. The man just chuckled, like they were all chatting over tea rather than a tense standoff in a parking lot.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

“ _Yes_ , it fucking matters,” Maze growled, but the Sinnerman had already dismissed her, looking at Chloe.

“ _You_ ,” he breathed, and Chloe felt dirty, somehow. “I have achieved my life’s work. All I have ever worked for has been for this moment. Now you must play your role, and end it all. Please.” Heedless of Maze’s grip, he positioned himself more squarely in front of her gun. “Kill me. End my existence. Only you, God’s miracle, can harm me.”

“What?” Chloe shook her head, trying to think past the haze of fury and the reckoning of all she’d seen today. She had to fall back on what was familiar. “No… no, you’re under arrest, we’re taking you in…”

“ _What_?” Maze exclaimed, but it was drowned out by the Sinnerman’s cry.

“No! It has to be you! I implore you, do it! Shoot!”

“Do it, Decker!” Maze ordered roughly, but their insistence only made Chloe more determined. Still shaking her head, she started to take a step back, lowering her gun.

In a flash, the Sinnerman had grabbed her hands, putting the barrel to his forehead. With an expression of pure bliss on his face, he tightened his grip, forcing her to pull the trigger.

Chloe leaped back, her yelp hidden by the report of the gun, as the man responsible for so much pain and suffering collapsed at her feet, half his head blown away, still smiling.

There was silence for a long moment, Chloe breathing hard like she’d just run a marathon.

“He’s dead,” Maze said roughly, rising to her feet. “He must’ve been what was blocking Lucifer from me. Now I can feel him again. He’s… he’s all right.” The demon couldn’t hide her massive relief. Chloe closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten. There was way too much, she couldn’t process it. Her brain was shutting down but one thought remained crystal clear.

 _Lucifer._ Find him, go to pieces afterward.

“Take me back,” she said firmly.

* * *

When they re-entered the warehouse, they saw Lucifer, sitting up largely under his own power, supported by Amenadiel. He still had wings, huge and white and even more incomprehensibly beautiful, now that they weren’t covered in blood. And beside him, Amenadiel had wings too, jet black and looking like they were shaped for speed. Chloe barely noticed.

“Lucifer!” she exclaimed, rushing toward him, not even minding the impossibility of the wings if it meant she had another mental image to replace the one of him captured and in pain.

Lucifer flinched away from her advance and Chloe halted, confused hurt rushing through her. She raised her hands instinctively, wondering if he might somehow see her as a threat.

“Lucifer?” It was a question this time.

“No.” Lucifer shook his head rhythmically from side to side. “No, you can’t be here.”

“Lucifer…” Chloe lowered her hands but didn’t attempt to move any closer. “I am here, it’s me.”

“But you’re dead,” Lucifer informed her flatly, his eyes like the inside of a grave. “I saw you, I _held_ you… I was immortal again.” His voice broke.

Chloe, tears falling steadily down her cheeks, couldn’t answer.

“She’s back,” Maze said, walking forward to kneel at Lucifer’s side. “They sent her back, I smell it on her.”

“It’s true, brother.” Amenadiel spoke up urgently. “She’s been resurrected. It wasn’t her time.”

Doubt crept into Lucifer’s expression. “Why would Dad…?” The spark was quenched as quickly as it came. “No. It has to be a trick.”

“Well, there’s an easy way to find out,” Maze drawled, drawing a stiletto out of her boot. “Prick him with this. When he bleeds, he’ll know.”

“ _No_.” Chloe was surprised by the ringing pronouncement, even more so when she realized it came from her. Lucifer’s eyes snapped to hers, shocked.

“I’m not going to hurt you again,” Chloe told him softly, edging closer. “Not even a little.” She held out a hand, as Lucifer stared at her.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

Lucifer swallowed hard. “Yes,” he said. Then, more forcefully, “I do.”

Chloe smiled. “Then trust me,” she said, and reached out to cup his face in her hand.

Lucifer shivered, inhaling sharply, gazing at her with unbridled wonder.

“But… you died,” he whispered, and Chloe smiled wider through her tears.

“Apparently, I got better,” she said, repeating his own words from so long ago, and he placed his hand over hers, eyes wet.

“Chloe,” he said, and she felt a frisson run through her at his use of the name, at his obvious joy and relief. Presently, she remembered the backup that was supposed to be on its way and sighed.

“Let’s get out of here,” she suggested.

“With pleasure,” Lucifer said darkly, and she and Amenadiel pulled him to his feet. She blinked, and Amenadiel’s wings had disappeared, followed by Lucifer’s a second later. It was only then that she noticed the items arranged in cases around them, reminding her forcibly of the religious artifacts auction (though she had a sneaking suspicion all of them were real).

“Do you remember anything, Chloe?” Amenadiel asked, as they began to move toward the exit, Lucifer steady but keeping his arm around Chloe from where she’d helped him up. Chloe didn’t feel the need to change the situation either. Lucifer’s grip on her flexed as she shook her head.

“I don’t even remember… what happened,” she said honestly. It was why she was having such a hard time believing everyone. “I just remember being in the warehouse and then waking up in the ambulance knowing where to find Lucifer.” She wasn’t sure what to make of the thought that she’d apparently gone to Heaven and been sent back.

Chloe didn’t miss the significant look that Amenadiel gave Lucifer. The latter just rolled his eyes, but he did pull her tighter against him. Chloe didn’t object.

“Probably for the best,” Lucifer said airily. “Such a dreadfully boring place.”

Chloe couldn’t help it; she giggled, feeling the breakdown coming on the horizon. Lucifer, her partner, was actually the Devil. She’d died - actually died - but she was still here, alive. She’d almost left Trixie behind, left everyone she cared about… But she’d apparently been sent back from Heaven with the mission to save Lucifer.

Hysteria bubbled up within her and she swallowed it back with difficulty. She looked up at Lucifer and found him looking back at her. So much had changed, but the steady warmth in his eyes grounded her like few other things could. She smiled, and squeezed back.

They had _a lot_ to talk about. Maybe almost too much. But she would much rather deal with it with him than alone.

Snaking her arm around, she twined her fingers with his, holding tight. She never intended to let go. Then, together, they stepped out of the warehouse, into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was a long chapter! But I did promise to make it better. I hope this ending absolves me! Thank you for reading!


End file.
